


Bi-cycle

by F1DEL1US, noseriouslythisis



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: 5 + 1 format, Clueless teammates, Fed up Freddie, M/M, Stickhandling 101
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2018-04-28
Packaged: 2019-04-29 01:24:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14462109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/F1DEL1US/pseuds/F1DEL1US, https://archiveofourown.org/users/noseriouslythisis/pseuds/noseriouslythisis
Summary: Freddie and Brownie tried to do it subtly. Really, they did.





	Bi-cycle

**Author's Note:**

> This stemmed from that one interview Mo gave where he called Brownie the "Town Bicycle" and all our friends immediately went "Bi"cycle because they are all wonderful people.

**1\. Carpooling**

 

Driving in with Freddie is always fun. His car is nice, and surprisingly cozy, and the music tends to be good. 

 

And, of course, there’s Freddie. 

 

Freddie behind the wheel, driving easily and confidently, his posture relaxed and open and he’s still a tiny bit fuzzy around the edges if they’re driving early in the morning and...it’s nice. They didn’t use to come in together, after they’d started staying over regularly. But, it was nice, they enjoyed it, and routinely turning up together even though they lived nowhere close to each other would gently clue their teammates in.

 

Or so they thought. They may have underestimated their teammates’ power of observation, however,  because there was...nothing. Plenty of people carpooled, and no one really thought twice about logistics. So, as a method of letting them know, it failed. On all other levels though, it was...good. Comfortable. A new normal of sorts, a practice run before spending even more time together, maybe. 

 

Nice. 

 

**2\. Sharing coffee**

 

Freddie was notoriously protective of his coffee. Where Carrick always loved to take anyone who was up for it out for coffee, showing off his favorites, Freddie was more...picky. He didn’t usually share his secrets, and he especially didn’t share his cups. Which is why it was such a delightful surprise when he started to show Brownie all his little particularities, showed him how to make it just the way he liked it, and made it his personal mission to find the perfect drink for Brownie. 

 

Like today, where he was sipping something on the way to the locker room before the game, meeting Brownie in the hallway. As they crossed the threshold, Freddie casually handed over his cup, silently giving Brownie permission to taste, as he had gotten into the habit of doing lately. 

 

This is the first time it has happened in front of their teammates though, a pointed statement, in the quiet way he liked to be. Brownie smiled before taking a sip. Warmth bloomed on his tongue (and his heart), tasting cinnamon and clove and cardamom, mingling together with a hint of chocolate. It was  _ wonderful,  _ heating him up from the cold outside. 

 

When he looked up into the full locker room though, carefully skirting the logo and still clutching the mug, there was...nothing. They hadn’t even noticed. Carrick looked a bit thoughtful, but Brownie thought that might have more to do with his curiosity about the contents of the cup. Freddie’s refusal to tell him his secrets had been bugging him for a while, Brownie could tell. The two talked about roasts and harvests from time to time, but no secrets. Brownie smiled to himself, shaking his head. They would have to step their game up, turn it up a notch again.

 

**3\. Danish**

 

Danish is...hard. Well, not really, but languages are complicated and it takes a while to really get used to them. Over time though, listening to Freddie talk in Danish became second nature. Brownie became used to his particular cadence, and even watched danish tv with him (with subtitles, of course). And when Freddie got sweet, whispering into his hair and stroking his cheek with the back of his hand, those whispers tended to be in danish, too. So, with time, Brownie learned. Little by little (and a bit through apps and a book, perhaps. Extra help never hurt) he started to understand more and more, especially when Freddie was talking. 

 

No one on the team spoke it, not even Leo with his plethora of languages. So, when Freddie threw scathing comments about cheating, with a sly smile on his face while he made fun of Auston’s moves while they were playing chel in the lounge with most of the team gathered around them, Brownie was the only one who cracked up. The comments became increasingly tongue in cheek, obviously in an effort to keep Brownie laughing, but even though he was at some point gasping for air because of the chirps, practically curled into Freddie’s side, there was nothing from their teammates. Brownie didn’t expect them to be quick on the uptake, but really. Nothing? Willy turned a little red when Freddie swiped the laugh tears from Brownies face and called him  _ Kæreste _ , as he liked to do, but otherwise, nada. 

 

Well. Next time, perhaps.

 

**4\. Unexpected Visitor**

 

The fourth time it happens...well, the fourth time it happens they weren’t even really trying. Which never seems to matter anyway. As many times as they had deliberately decided to hint at their relationship, they had just as many times went about their life as a couple in front of their teammates, to no avail. So it really shouldn’t have surprised them but...well.

 

“Oh hi, Brownie!” Mitch greets excitedly, and Brownie wonders for the hundredth time how his cheeks don’t hurt from the constant smile plastered on his face. Or maybe living with Freddie is turning him into a secret grump too. 

 

Mitch has Auston in tow and in true fashion of someone who never let a missing invitation hinder him, barges into Freddie’s flat. 

 

Brownie has a brief moment of panic about his appearance, before he remembers it really doesn’t matter. Maybe this will clue their clueless teammates in. 

 

Like it happens so often these days, he had come home with Freddie after the game. It being one of their rare off-days, they had decided that they would hang out and chill at home, and were in the process of making breakfast (shirtless to boot) when the doorbell rang. 

 

“We wanted to see if Freddie wanted to hang out and play video games,” Mitch said, walking into the kitchen like he owned the place. Auston slumped into the sofa and closed his eyes, and Brownie knew from experience that he wouldn’t speak another word until they got some coffee into him. “But looks like you beat me to it.”

 

“Hey Freddie!” Mitch greeted and went straight to the fridge, missing the loaded look Freddie and Brownie exchanged. 

 

“I was just asking Brownie what he was doing here,” Mitch repeated, grabbing a bottle of water out of the fridge and turning to them. 

 

“Sleepover,” Freddie answered, deadpan and Brownie struggled not to let the laugh threatening to break free out. 

 

“And you didn’t invite me?” Mitch cried, stomping into the living room, presumably to complain to Auston about this slight against him. 

 

Freddie shakes his head before going back to cracking more eggs for their new guests. Brownie plants a kiss on his shoulder before going to grab a shirt. Being around Willy and Kappy might have desensitized their teammates to half-nakedness outside the locker room, but  _ he _ wasn’t quite there yet.

 

**5\. Bi-cycle**

 

Mo thinks he’s hilarious. Even worse, Mo thinks  _ they _ think he’s hilarious. Now, admittedly, Brownie isn’t  _ great _ at fantasy football, even Freddie says so (Oh yes, that happened and he sulked for an entire day before Freddie baked him some danish cookies that have a name he can’t pronounce, in apology. It’s unfair, really. Who could stay mad after  _ that _ ?)

 

The point is, he gets it. He’s not great at it and he wishes he had been an adult like Mitch (an Oxymoron, he knows) and refused to participate altogether. But instead he gets to experience all the wonderful chirps that come with the territory of being a shitty fantasy football player who can’t stop trading to save his life. 

 

Mo comes up with “Town Bicycle” and it doesn’t even make  _ sense _ , but it sticks because the idiot goes and announces it on  _ national radio _ . Brownie hates his teammates. He wishes it were legal to murder your coworkers in Canada. 

 

But it doesn’t end there. 

 

Freddie gets this look sometimes. He’s not much of a talker, but Brownie knows what a wicked sense of humor his boyfriend has, and he knows just looking at him that  _ someone _ ’ _ s _ going to be in trouble. He just doesn’t expect it to be  _ him _ . 

 

Their practice goes well. They are riding a high off of a dominant win and everyone’s cheerful. So when Freddie gets up and approaches him no one blinks an eye. 

 

That is...until Freddie puts something around his neck and clicks it, smirking. Brownie can’t quite tell what it is at first, but when he understands, he snorts, grabbing their teammates’ attention. It’s a bicycle lock. And Freddie just fucking collared him.  

 

_ Maybe this’ll do it. _

 

Oh, they notice it alright. There are cheers and whistles, laughter and some butt slaps. Someone high-fives Freddie, even. 

 

But when everyone quiets down, Mo approaches Freddie and slaps him on his shoulder, “Good one, Fred,” and that seems to be the end of that. 

 

Brownie looks around, waiting to see is someone _ , anyone _ got it. After a minute, when there is no indication of any such miracle, he throws up his hands and stomps out of the room. 

 

**+1: Just be bold**

 

After practice, and months after their first attempts, conversation turned, as it often did, to relationships. The happily marrieds gushed about their wives, etc, the usual. Unfortunately, dodging the attempts by their teammates to set either or both of them up was just as frequent. 

 

Today, it was Mo. Happily (or unhappily, depending on who you asked. Brownie was very much not. Asking.) single Mo had taken it upon himself lately to “find happiness for his kids, er, teammates” this season. It was sweet, in a way, but, well. If it stopped, there would be no crying about it, either. 

 

Brownie was the main target of attention once again that day. “Brownie,” Mo was saying, “Brownie, I got this friend, you would  _ love _ them, cute, blonde, big fan of surfing, maybe you two could meet up, what do you think?” Before Brownie could answer, Freddie appeared at his side, looking annoyed. He had reached the end of his patience, it seemed, because he gruffly stated “He’s taken.” Mo blinked. “Wait, you are? That’s great, why didn’t you say so! So, who...hey!” Freddie was leading Brownie away by the hand, fed up with all of them and not quite trusting himself to not bark at his own captain, so he just removed himself from the situation. 

 

Mo, though, could not let that stand, of course, and followed them out, the team on his heels. They never could resist drama. Mo let out a shocked noise as he processed what he was seeing, abruptly coming to a halt. His teammates were...kissing. Each other. On the mouth. Faintly, Mo kind of wished for smelling salts. 

 

On cue, hooting and hollering ensued by the rest of the team as they saw what was happening. Everyone seemed astonished. Everyone, except… “Seriously??” Willy said, voice raised to be heard over the noise. “Really. You didn’t know?”

 

“Wait,” Mo said. “You’re saying you did?”

 

Incredulous, Willy shook his head. “I can’t believe you. They’re always touching! They’re not Mitch (“Hey!”), they don’t do that. And they keep calling each other all those cutesy nicknames” 

 

“Nicknames? But...I didn’t hear any special nicknames!” Someone exclaimed. 

 

“Danish ones, you know, like darling, sweetie….Swedish isn’t that different, you guys”

 

At the edge of the commotion, now not snogging anymore, stood Freddie, an arm slung around Brownie and smiling smugly. “No more matchmaking, Kæreste,” he said. And then they left, slipping out unnoticed and plotting to bring Willy cookies tomorrow for being the only one smart enough to notice.

 

Brownie secretly hoped this would clue Mo into his own unresolved feelings about a certain teammate. But well. If the past few months were any indication, he wouldn’t hold his breath.  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> And they lived happily ever after with a few "Bi"cycle jokes thrown in


End file.
